


The Bad, Ugly, No Good Day

by paraboobizarre



Category: The Following
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-23
Updated: 2013-03-23
Packaged: 2017-12-06 06:33:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 975
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/732516
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/paraboobizarre/pseuds/paraboobizarre
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Just a little domestic scene that popped into my head and refused to leave.</p>
<p>Set before the beginning of the series, when the boys are living together.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Bad, Ugly, No Good Day

_We went to the petting zoo yester day. Goats are mean it stole my lunch._ Above that is the crude drawing of a brown and orange goat that looks more like a fat dog with only three legs. It is munching on an oversized sandwich, looking extremely smug for a fat dog-goat. The words PETTING ZOO are scrawled over it in purple crayon. 

“Why do you even keep this stuff?” Paul asks, casually plucking the kid's drawings off the pinboard next to Jacob's desk. The pin bounces against a folder of forms and rolls out of sight behind the desk. Considering Jacob's usual luck he will probably step on it next time he sits down. 

Any other day he might be inclined to indulge Paul in a fundamental debate about why he likes working with kids, but today is _not_ that day.  
Today he still has three different sets of homework to grade, prep substitute lessons, because a colleague has managed to herniate a disc and fill out tons of stupid paperwork for the school board.  
Today is the day three kids got sick with that stomach bug that's going around, one of them throwing up on his shoes, the car started making that strange noise again and he had to bring it back to the shop even though they said they had fixed it last time and it shouldn't trouble him again.  
Today is also the day he bit down on something hard in the cafeteria lunch and who the fuck even knows what they put into that food and his tooth has been aching ever since. Today, last but not least, is also the day his mother called to remind him, guilt trip all inclusive, that his father's birthday party will be next week and would he please have the common decency to come, the man's, after all, not the monster you make him out to be and he loves you. 

So really, any other day, he'd shrug this off, but not today. Everyone and everything has been giving him shit all day long. He really, _really_ , doesn't need this from Paul now, too.  
What he needs is someone to tell all this stuff to, someone to listen and then point out to him that it's not all that bad, but there's no one. There's no one to tell how sick the thought of his father makes him and how much he wants to see his mum again because he hasn't seen her for more than three years. Oh sure, there's Paul, _the caring boyfriend_ ™ but it' not real and how could he share this?  
  
Paul's eyes flit over the drawing and he makes that sound he always makes when he thinks something is stupid. It's a cross between a huff and a snort and it comes with a side of a sneer and it sends Jacob from pathetic to pissed off in one second flat.

“Yeah, I get it, alright!” Jacob snaps, ripping the paper from between Paul's fingers, “you don't like kids. They're stupid, the drawing is stupid. We all get it, okay?!”

He slams the drawing down on the school board forms, only realizing now how fast his breath is coming. He can feel heat creeping up his neck and he really just prays that Paul will leave this one alone, because Jacob can feel himself getting ready for a fight he really doesn't want to have right now.  
Paul looks at him and Jacob feels the seconds stretch between them when suddenly something in Paul's face softens. He holds up his hands.  
“I'm sorry. That was...none of my business. Sorry.” He takes a step back, rubbing his hands against his T-shirt.

It's like someone opened a valve, he can feel the fight leave him so fast, everything just draining away. Pinching the bridge of his nose, feeling a massive headache lurking just behind his eyes, he can't help but chuckle. This day has been so horrible it's curving right back to ridiculous. He hates his colleagues, his father won't stop haunting him even if the man is three states away and hasn't actually spoken to him in five years, there's puke on his new shoes and he's getting into an argument with his pretend boyfriend over a kid's drawing. Seriously, what's next?

Paul's looking at him like he lost his mind. Which he probably has, who can tell at this point?

“I'm sorry, I just...” He makes some indistinct gesture in lieu of any real explanation, “I'm having an epically bad day.” He bites his lip, looking up at Paul, hoping that this is enough, that Paul will somehow understand. There's a beat of awkward silence.

“I was going to make some pasta. Green pesto and tomatoes. Would you like some?” Paul gestures in the vague direction of the kitchen, looking about as uncomfortable as Jacob feels.  
“There's wine, too. And an aspirin, if you need one,” he adds quickly, attempting a half smile.  
Then, not waiting for an answer, he turns around and walks back into the kitchen. 

Staring at his desk, at all that stuff he still needs to do tonight before he can go to bed and call it a day, all Jacob really wants to do is curl up on the couch and have the world leave him alone.  
There's the clanking of pots in the kitchen, water running and then there's the familiar strains of that Jazz CD Paul put into the player in the kitchen on their first night and never got around to exchanging. 

“Red or white?” Comes the call from the kitchen.

Ah, fuck it. School board forms first. Unlike his students with their homework, the principal will give him shit for not giving that back on time. Jacob grabs the folder and a pen and makes for the kitchen.


End file.
